The Man who Fell Overboard
by de-anon
Summary: "Tanned and lean, he looked human, with auburn curls plastered to his forehead and around his ears—and one stubborn curl that sprung out from where his hair parted. His brow was creased, nose and chin delicate but pointed, jaw defined but firm. The slits on his neck resembled vents, flaps of skin designed to open and shut." Prumano, Mertalia AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hetalia mermaid AU, updated in small installments (~5 pages each). Basically a gift for tumblr user rniq, who sometimes draws really cute pics of hetalia merfolk. Main pairing is prumano, with gerita sidepairing. (Not sure why I haven't uploaded this before now.)**

**Comments or suggestions are appreciated! Enjoy!**

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Every year the ocean got just a little bit colder, but mermaids were around since before the age of snow when great chunks of the ocean were encased in ice, so their muscular tails and thick skin were enough to insulate lean bodies. Still, as Lovino battled the current, he felt the flow of his blood grow more sluggish while the beating of his heart faded from erratic to feeble, like an animal grown too exhausted to fight its way out of a thicket.

"The hell is happening," he wondered.

He'd been swimming for days, off to find where the schools of fish had disappeared so he could ease the gnawing in his stomach. It'd also been days since he'd seen another of his kind. They too, had grown scarce, whether to find warmer waters or to seek out food, Lovino wasn't sure—the only thing he did know was that he'd been left behind.

Which was why he was swimming aimlessly along in what he felt like were circles. He wasn't sure where he was going-just that he hoped there would be food and clear streams like he remembered once from his childhood. He loved the lace of dancing light that rippled along creek bottoms and the heat that soaked the shallows.

"The edge of the ocean," Lovino said. "That's where the rivers start." His brow creased. "Or end?" It'd be easier to breathe, most definitely; Lovino's gils were fluttering out of control on the sides of his neck, and the frigid water seeped deep into his core. He was practically gasping for oxygen that couldn't feed his brain fast enough.

Powerful tail undulating, he headed upwards, hoping that a few solid lungfuls of air above the surface would be enough to stem the dizziness clouding his mind and help him regain a sense of direction. If he was lucky he'd be able to find the North star and look around for the haze of an island somewhere.

He broke the surface after a solid minute of desperate swimming- he'd been further down than he'd realized—and started gulping down air, chest heaving with the sudden activity as his body adjusted. He tread water like that for a few minutes, long enough to claw his bangs from his face and wipe the salt from his eyes as he blinked upward. It wasn't quite twilight yet, but the moon was already a vague orb off to the distance. The bottom of the sun had just begun to dip down below the horizon. Dusty light seeped into the ocean and the daytime blue mellowed out to soft pinks and oranges that would gradually fade to black as night descended.

The stars would be out soon.

"Sun sets…in…the west?" Lovino said. His voice grated in the pure air, almost incoherent. Mermaids were designed to communicate underwater, so much talking above the surface strained his throat and fragile lungs. But Lovino needed to think out loud. Needed the reassurance of a voice, even though his own was the only he could provide.

Water slapped him in the face midbreath. He spent the next few minutes coughing to dispel the offending liquid before finally dipping back under to readjust. He re-emerged, unamused. "I should…oh shit. I don't know which way to go." Squinting eyes could make out nothing on the horizon in any direction except…what _was_ that?

Blotted out in the sunset, just a silhouette, it looked like a large…pole stacked with three square tiers that decreased in size toward the top. Even from that distance, he could see it bobbing up and down as an onslaught of wind churned up the water. The air crackled restlessly while the underbellies of clouds bulged ever darker. Every so often electricity shot through the dry air.

"Whatever the hell that is, it's fucked up."

He was forced to duck back beneath the water with a flash of scales when another slew of wind nearly shoved him face-first into the waves. He drove deeper but found himself twisting his body around and rushing toward the strange object, as if drawn to it.

Lovino had swum barely one hundred meters when he found his vision overpowered by a massive wooden hull cutting through the water. He wandered along the side a bit and under, tracing the surface with his fingertips, listening, tapping. It was coated with grime, weathered by water; hundreds of barnacles that Lovino could not pry loose crusted the underbelly.

The object started rocking back and forth more violently than before, like the swinging of a pendulum-so far that he feared it would overturn completely and yet so slowly that it seemed like a nightmare. Through the thick wall of water he could vaguely make out shouting. Something creaked. Something else hurled downward and slapped through the surface of the water, followed by a second object slicing through choppy waves in a torrent of bubbles. It latched onto the first object, now motionless, righted itself, and began kicking and flailing against the drag of the water until both heads broke the surface.

Another splash. Some kind of red tube had thunked down near both creatures where the conscious one could push toward it and wrap the rope around the other. Slowly the tube trailed toward the boat in spurts, following after a heavy rope.

But the water was churning more and more aggressively until the waves rose up in fury, far above the head of the second creature, crashing down into him with such power that he found himself slipping downward with a force that no amount of thrashing could overcome. The water around him boiled with the intensity of his struggling. A fresh tube slapped nearby, but he was already sinking.

His hand grasped for it. Feet away. Bubbles exploded from a mouth that had been desperately clamped shut.

Then…he just lay there in the embrace of water as if suspended; his head fell back with the slow descent of one sinking, limbs spreading out, that same hand going limp, fingers curling inward as eyes slid shut. Blue light swathed him. The ocean settled into calmness that belied the storm raging above.

Several seconds raced by at a speed that Lovino's brain couldn't process, and he was moving toward the unconscious creature before he realized, hovering near without touching him, eyes blinking wide.

It looked like Lovino. Face, jaw, shock of hair—though white—sinewy arms, muscular chest. But where there should have been a tail two long limbs forked out, muscular, bulging with the graceful curves of muscles. At the ends Lovino was startled to find what looked like two demented hands with elongated palms and stubby fingers.

"The fucking hell is that ugly thing."

But something wasn't right. For all its struggling earlier, it lay deathly still. Lovino knew that when fish died, they floated belly up near the surface. This…this thing was just sinking. Any further and it would dip down below the temperature gradient where dark creatures lurked in the void.

"Fuck," the merman said. He grasped at its shirt and pulled, shaking him like a rag doll. "Wake the fuck up!" When it did not move he pinched at its cheeks and tugged at its hair, moving to twist at its fingers, which had turned a deathly cold. Already its lips took on a purple tint. Warmth receded from its body. "Shit, you aren't made for water, are you," he realized upon closer examination. His neck was smooth—no gills. But when he pressed his head against his chest, he thought he heard the faint beating of a heart. Lungs then? A land mammal?

With a grunt, Lovino bowled into him and wrapped his arms around his chest so that his shoulder could take the brunt of his weight. Tail pumping, teeth gritted, he pushed upwards with such desperation that his entire hips undulated with the power that he needed, tail whipping back a torrent of water to propel them.

They broke the surface.

The water had calmed.

The creature sputtered and coughed a solid five minutes without ever fully regaining consciousness. He went still again.

Careful to hold its head above the water, Lovino turned this way and that. There was no sign of the boat in the cold of night, and the moon only illuminated the patch of water that reflected it. He had to take a moment to readjust the creature in his arms to account for awkward limbs, but then he was moving again, keeping it close to his chest and swimming sideways, half his fin flitting in and out of the water.

"Where is land, dammit." Neck in the water and face out of it, he felt awkward relying on both lungs and gills for oxygen, but found that it gave him the power he needed when his muscles started to ache. He swam well into the night like this, only stopping to rest a couple of times. "Fucking useless creature. The hell you go into the water if you can't fucking breathe in it. Damn you. You better fucking wake up and tell me where land is this fucking instance, got it?"

No answer.

But the blue had receded in its lips, and somehow against all odds its chest was barely heaving.

A few more hours and Lovino was flagging badly. A worn out tail barely moved anymore, and bit by bit the creature slipped from his grip. But then his dorsal fin scraped sand and all at once Lovino was grappling at the unfamiliar substance until he and the creature were high up on shore where the water barely lapped at them.

"Fucking….shit…"

He could not move. Could not get back to the ocean. Writhing only dug him deeper into the coarse sand, so he latched onto the human and awkwardly rolled himself up onto his chest and rested there, surprised to find an odd sort of warmth centered around a fluttering heart.

Warm-blooded, Lovino realized. No wonder its skin was so thin and almost translucent—as Lovino was fascinated to see veins running along his inner elbow. He didn't need the kind of insulation that Lovino did. Though, with a jerky movement, he realized that it had downsides. The spines along his tail had sliced shallow cuts through baggy pants and pale skin. Blood oozed out into the sand.

"Shit…" But he was already losing consciousness before he could do anything about it.


	2. Chapter 2

By any counts, Gilbert Beilschmidt should not be alive. And for a while, the numbness prickling through him convinced him that he wasn't. For some time he was nothing. Nobody. There was no rocking boat, no screams, no lightning tonguing at the masts to tease exhausted sailors. No bitter salt and long hours with the constant fear of uncharted waters. Just quiet he'd never known in a tumultuous life of running away and never settling down to rest.

But all at once that fell away like water slipping through desperate fingers. The shells digging into his back and the feeble rays of sun on his face brought a fresh deluge of pain that intensified in waves, receding and surging gradually, each more unbearable than the last. The sting of cuts and scrapes coated with salt and grime pulsed with the same intensity that drove deep through his nerves, up to his head and into the back of his skull. Every breath was a struggle.

He tried to call out but his voice escaped as a harsh whine hindered by swollen tongue. The taste of blood in his mouth was thick and cloying. When he tried to move, he felt as if a weight was squeezing down on his chest. Suffocating him.

He was in the water, he remembered, somewhere in the chaos of hurling waves that cast him about like a rag doll, no amount of strength or speed powerful enough to cut through. His friend was already sinking. He'd hit his head when the boat nearly overturned then he'd plummeted from the side. Gilbert didn't think. He'd jumped in after him. Saved him. Then everything started to fade. Water had flooded his lungs. Thick. Demanding. Red and black exploded in his vision. Something was coming at him. Then Gilbert vanished from the world.

Wake up, Gilbert, this is just a dream, he thought. Heavy lids fluttered open. It had to be a dream. The sunlight felt too real. The pain was too real.

The weight on his chest shifted. Somewhere through watering eyes, he could make out a crop of auburn hair over a caramel face—a male's face-that slept there, breaths harsh but even, fingers curled into the fabric of Gil's shirt.

"The…hell?" When he tried to sit up, the weight did not yield. Instead the man curled up further. Pain flitted across his features. Something slimy slithered across Gilbert's leg.

Fresh pain slashed itself through him. Blood ran thick rivulets down his shin.

"S-s-shit…shit shit shit shit shit shit what is this thing."

With some difficulty he rocked to the side, until he was able to heave the creature off of him and deposit him on the sand beside him. Pain lanced through him at any movement, but he found the more he stretched his muscles, the better his blood circulated, until some of the pinprick numbness ceased in his fingers and toes. He gave up on sitting upright when his vision broke out in black and dizziness swooped in, instead resting there on his side and blinking past pain long enough to study his 'companion.'

Tanned and lean, he _looked_ human, with auburn curls plastered to his forehead and around his ears—and one stubborn curl that sprung out from where his hair parted. His brow was creased, nose and chin delicate but pointed, jaw defined but firm. The slits on his neck resembled vents, flaps of skin designed to open and shut. Gilbert reached out to feel along them, but flinched back when they twitched open, daring to breathe only when they shut again.

All that was truly well and good, until Gilbert's eyes trailed down his abdominals to just below where his navel should have been. The skin there faded from tan to brown, textured like sandpaper that further down grew glossy, iridescent, smooth. Scales, Gilbert realized with a start. Scales that became clustered and packed one on top of the other-greens and greys and browns and blues all mottled together, glinting in the sunlight like the ripples over a stream. A tail where legs should have been, with fins running along the sides and back, dangerous spines digging into the sand. At the end, a huge fin had curled in on itself, like that of a whale, only semi-transparent and deceptive in its strength.

A mermaid.

Gil felt his brow furrow. No, if it was a mermaid, there would be shells covering what most definitely was not a female chest—or so legend had him believe. He'd seen pictures painted on pottery, wooden figureheads on ships. This was…a mer_man?_

That was what he'd seen swimming for him.

"Did you…save me?" He wondered aloud. With some effort he was able to sit up, if only to take in all of the creature at once. Half man…half fish, then. It was as simple as that. Simple but impossible, and half of Gilbert's brain, from beyond the throbbing mess of his headache, wondered if he'd actually died.

No time for that-its breathing intensified. "Water," it croaked.

Gil tensed and fell backwards. "I-I don't have any…" Swallowing, he realized he was dehydrated as well.

"Dumbass…there's…a whole fucking ocean…like right there." Lovino's tail flopped in that direction. His eyes blinked open and closed, cheek pressed into the sand, but he put no effort into moving other than to curl up, panting harshly.

"O-Oh," Gilbert said, crawling toward him. "You meant that kind of water…"

"No shit," it said.

Analyzing the situation, Gilbert realized his best bet would be to drag the merman, so he hooked his arms around his shoulders and heaved, still half crawling, inch by agonizing inch, cutting a trench into the sand as they moved. It hissed in pain but did not move.

"You…you're heavier than you look," Gil muttered. His panting intensified into raw scrapes. He collapsed a moment, trying to stave off a flash of dizziness that dug deep into his consciousness. "Ah, shit…"

"Take a break," Lovino muttered. His tail thrashed and writhed, and like a snake he sort of burrowed deeper into the sand in his attempts to slither, arms reaching out to pull himself forward. "Dammit, dry land is fucking stupid. Sand is stupid. Where's the grass? Isn't there supposed to be grass or some shit? At least that shit's nice."

Gil's head thunked backwards. He stared at the sun, feeling dizzy for the intense light boring into him, tongue like leather and hindering any attempts to swallow or even really breathe. "What are you even talking about…"

"Rivers," the merman answered. "Rivers and shit like that, with soft grass and clear water and no stupid sand digging into my scales." He groaned, voice growing raspy.

"This is a beach," Gil managed as he hauled himself to his feet again. With a burst of strength, he pulled Lovino the rest of the way, aided greatly by the undulation of his tail, until Lovino's hand touched water and he was able to squirm free, readjust, and roll the rest of the way into the waves.

He splashed about in his attempt to right himself. "Took you long enough," He muttered, dipping his head to meet an oncoming wave, the salt water flooding his gills. "Better. Shit, sun is a fucking asshole."

Gil flopped back down so that his feet touched the water. The salt stung in his fresh cuts and scrapes, but the coolness helped distract his mind from the burning of muscles and his intense dehydration. The pounding in his head did not lessen for all his movement. "Yeah well that solves _your_ problem. I can't exactly drink salt water."

"Not my fault your species is a fucking failure at life," the merman answered. "Whatever the hell you are."

"Human," Gil choked. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, if you must know, is my name. Yeah, no shit, we're not designed for water, much less salt water."

"Seems stupid," Lovino answered, "Like 2/3 of this fucking planet is water. Way to fall below the evolution curve. Even stupidass blobfish got the fucking memo about that."

"Yeah well your fin thingy is stupid on land!" Gil managed back. "I could have left you beached there like some kind of lameass whale but I didn't."

"I could of let you sink and die!" Lovino retorted. "Lame gill-less animal. How the fuck is your name Gilbert if you don't fucking have gills."

Gil pinched the bridge of his nose. "You make no sense. And speaking of names, you better surrender yours. And don't bring up the sinking thing. As far as I'm concerned, we're even."

"Asshole," Lovino muttered.

"That's your name? Sounds about right."

"N-no!" He drew himself up further out the waves, enough to prod at his foot, scowling up at him. "The name is Lovino Vargas." He got quiet, sort of retreating a bit into the waves, staring at Gil's feet as he spoke. "And I'm from the ice caps, but everyone disappeared some time ago which is the reason I strayed so far."

Gil wriggled his toes, amused at how Lovi flinched back, eyes widening, one hand simultaneously reaching up to grab at his largest toe. When Gil did not move, he pulled himself tighter, sort of pulling his toes apart to stare at the skin webbing between then flexing and extending them, fingers prying at the nails then moving to examine the heel and the arch.

Gil winced. "That tickles, you ass."

"How the fuck does this support your weight?"

"It's a balancing act. We have two and we alternate between them to walk. Simple shit. You learn when you're pretty young."

"Oh." Lovino released his foot. His stomach made an audible gurgle and he frowned, coiling up to rest his head against his arms, a thin sigh escaping his lips. "I'm starving. I should hunt for something to eat. You think there are any decent fish around here? I'm used to shit around the ice caps back when there were a lot of fish there. Sometimes ventured up onto the ice—could move pretty quickly on it. Ate penguins sometimes, stupid waddly creatures."

Gil pulled a face. "I…I will head inland and look for water."

Lovino frowned. "You…you're coming back, right?"

Gilbert nodded. "As soon as I can. Shit, we're a pair of lost outcasts. Might as well help each other out, right?"

"Yeah," Lovi said. His frown intensified, amber eyes caught somewhere in thought that furrowed his brow. He pushed at the sand with his hand. "Yeah, I'll…I'll hunt for something and you get water, and then you come back and we'll figure something out." Still, that faraway look persisted, even as he slipped backwards into deeper water, "I wish I could…go onto land too. I like fruit, but damn trees are so fucking tall. I want to find a river…want to live in one. Plenty of salmon, fruit trees, fresh water, sunshine, fun shit. My brother and I used to visit one…and we could swim up pretty far inland and look at weirdass cities from far away. That's where humans live, right? In the cities?"

Gil nodded. "Something like that." He started to pad away, feet sinking a haphazard trail behind him. He raised one hand without looking back, "Try not to be pathetic while I'm gone." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Enter Ludwig. He has a pretty sad backstory, so I'm trying to balance that with keeping in character, which is hard because I'm not used to writing Ludwig. Bear with me as I get the hang of it? I'll probably do a spin-off story of him and Feliciano once I'm mostly finished with this one.**

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Lovino waited for days, spending much of the time sleeping in the shallows, wrapped around where rocks jutted up out of the water so he wouldn't be dragged out to sea. At night, when the moon was high in the sky, he flitted about in search of fish. What he did find, he ate ravenously, though a few he trapped in tidal pools in cages fixed from driftwood and seaweed in case Gilbert returned.

Gradually, the wind scraped away all traces of the crooked line of footprints.

About the fifth day, he wondered if he'd return at all. This wasn't necessarily a bad life out by the shore. The sun was an unaccustomed warmth that seeped into his skin, the fish plentiful, and Lovino was able to hide easily enough in underwater caves when he heard the splash of fishermen's nets. Still he felt an odd sense of betrayal twist its way into his chest when the scrunch of sand he heard every morning were only those of sailors as swarthy as Gilbert was pale. Maybe it was time to forget about the human and start searching for rivers again.

"You asshole," Lovino muttered. He ducked underwater to combat the sting of tears and propelled himself back toward a cave studding the side of the island. He'd been resting here in the hours of early morning before the sun warmed the sand. Overhead he could see the watery silhouette of a vessel drifting by. Oars plunged deep stroke after stroke.

Something stirred the water nearby. Rocks shifted and Lovino, finding himself engulfed in powerful arms, gasped air bubbles from constricted lungs, thrashing, the fins at his elbows extending into sharp points to slash at his attacker as his tail twisted and writhed. Blood spiraled and hovered around the flailing pair like dilute flares.

"Calm _down_."

A powerful hand clamped down onto Lovino's mouth, the other looping around the back of his arms until his thrashing died down. In this fashion, the attacker dragged him back into the cave and waited until the boat was but a dark speck far beyond the shallows. He released him and retreated.

Lovino whirled around to see another Merman treading water at the mouth of the cave, hands pressing at the cuts along his arms to help stem the blood flow. He was pale but muscular, broad shouldered, jaw firm and eyes and gentle blue. Blond hair miraculously lay flat even in the quiet drift of the water. His tail was a powerful shark-mix, like the mermen from tropical climates and, while he did not have spines, the edge of his fin was honed to a razor sharp edge.

He looked at Lovino, brows pinching together. "My apologies. I thought you were someone else." He sighed deeply and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Regardless, you were too close to the humans. You were in danger."

"I know," Lovino spat back, "Doesn't mean you can fucking manhandle me. They wouldn't have hurt me anyway—I've been watching them for a few days now. "

He shook his head. "Trust me. Humans will not hesitate to drag you ashore and sell you to the highest bidder. It's best not to let them know you're here." There was something unnerving about the peculiar way he stared at Lovino, eyes sinking into a faraway sadness then snapping back to bore into him, as if willing some unspoken information from Lovino's face.

Lovino narrowed his eyes but splayed out over a rock with a wave of his hand. "Whatever." He groaned as he sat upright again. "Oi. Speaking of. The hell did you come from? Are there other merpeople nearby?"

His acquaintance shook his head. "I am alone. You are the first I've seen in quite some time…I was actually hoping you'd have information on surrounding, um, packs…? Of merpeople."

"Schools," Lovino muttered. "And no. They all left me so I went to fend for myself. It's Lovino, okay."

"Ludwig," the other answered. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else but, shoulders tensing, looked away with a quiet sigh.

Lovino shrugged. "Okay, well, fine. At least tell me that you know where some rivers are or something."

"Rivers? Can you…breathe properly in fresh water?"

"…Yes?" Lovino asked, "Can't you?" He approached quietly, eyes narrowed, stopping within a few feet of the other to properly scrutinize him.

Ludwig blinked rapidly, mumbled something, and sighed. "I-I hadn't _tried_." Something lit up in his face, briefly, but it was back to business as he cleared his throat. "Is that where you think the other schools have gone?"

Lovino shrugged. "Given up on them. Couldn't fucking care less about where they are. It's where the good fish and fruit are, so that's where I'm going. I don't _need_ other people. They just _leave_ you anyway."

Ludwig's voice was little more than a whispered sigh. "I know…" He turned the other direction, "Then inland up the rivers is where I will go." He nodded once, "I would not mind the company."

"Hell no," Lovino said. "I have shit to do and it's none of your damn business or concern. Whoever the hell you're looking for, I hope you find them—"

"How did you—"

"Could you be any more fucking obvious?" Lovino groaned into his hand and twisted past him with a surge of bubbles. He rippled with the movements of his tail, as free and fluid as the water itself, angling himself toward the surface in a fast spiral til his head broke the surface. He took in the air in deep gulps, appreciative of a faint breeze as the sun finally eased itself above the horizon. Its light skipped and sparkled across churning waves and brightened every crevice and crack of the cliff wall, toward where the island dipped down and water lapped onto the sandy shore. He ignored the blond head that popped up a few yards away, watching him as he headed toward the sand.

_Footprints_.

A lone set, wandering, cutting a dotted circle around the beach to and from an imprint where someone had been sitting.

"Dammit," Lovino groaned. "Was it him? Did I fucking miss him?" He stared out over the beach. In either direction he saw littered shells and sandy dunes slapping up toward where rocky cliffs climbed the island. "Gilbert?" he shouted, grappling with the sand to slither his way onto the shore. "GILBERT?" If he moved enough like a snake, he was able to burrow out past where the water met the shore, but further up where the sand was dry and loose he could not pull himself much farther.

Lovino felt helplessness tighten around his heart and constrict his lungs. His friend could be no more than fifty meters away, and he'd never be able to reach him—not with this unwieldy, unless tail. No matter how graceful and powerful he was in the water, he could never survive on the land.

Sand scrunched nearby and Lovino, lifting his head, made a cry of excitement, only to find several men dragging tangled nets down to the water to wash. The leader yelped something, flinching back, but beckoned his friends closer, prodding at Lovino with the butt of his spear.

"Told you I heard something," he said to his companion. When he saw that Lovino was stranded, he knelt beside him to rub his palm against his tail. Hissing, he jerked it away, bloodied.

"D-don't touch me," Lovino snarled. The spines in his tail extended. His scales, sharp already, bristled. He thrashed once, bringing it swinging in a wide arch, slashing it across the torso of the first.

His companions scrambled back as blood splattered across the sand. The man screamed, shallow lacerations oozing across his chest, then jabbed his spear downward. Lovino rolled. The point grazed his shoulder and the shaft splinted as he slammed his tail against it.

"Lovino—" Ludwig scrambled toward him. He grabbed for his shoulder and lifted him easily, throwing him unceremoniously toward the water. Lovi thudded into the sand with a grunt and started rolling into the shallows. Ludwig grabbed the broken spear and slashed as his assailants, a silent warning to hang back, then pulled himself back into the water. His hand, tight around Lovino's wrist, only pulled tighter as he yanked him back into the depths.

"You could have been killed—"

Lovino wrenched his wrist free and broke the surface again. The men stood on the shore. The leader shook his fist and screamed, "We'll have you hooked and gutted for that!"

With a startled gasp, Lovino ducked down from a spear that came hurling toward him. "Fucking shit—" He wiped at burning eyes and swallowed back a tide of sobs that heaved against his chest. "Gilbert fucking promised—where the fuck am I supposed to go? I've been wandering aimlessly across this fucking ocean alone for too long—he was supposed to come back for me—I can't fucking be alone any longer—I can't—I just can't…"

Ludwig only stared downward. "Look. I get that you don't care much about what I have to say." He licked his lips and examined his hands, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with them. He settled with crossing his arms. Words were difficult. "Humans and Mermaids were not meant to associate. I once—I had a friend who tried to befriend a mer—a human. Even with the purest intentions…it…it was never going to work."

"Ever stop to think you're not the fucking expert?" Lovino muttered. "Just leave me the fuck alone—" He surfaced again, glad to find that the men had started to retreat. He hung back, quietly cutting the water, until they disappeared up the hill, then slithered partially onto the sand again—but not so far that he couldn't roll back to safety with ease. The lone set of footprints had been churned to nothing in the commotion.

The sand shifted again. Without thinking, Lovino dove for the water.

But stopped, halfway submerged, to stare at the veins bulging from pale feet that slid to a stop beside him.

"Gilbert—" Lovino hoisted himself higher. Red eyes stared back and something in Lovino snapped. He pounded his fist against one of his feet then sank his teeth into the big toe. With a yelp, Gilbert fell to his butt, kicking at his face just hard enough to shove him back. Lovino crossed his arms. "You _asshole—_do you realize how fucking long I had to wait for you-? I thought you'd fucking abandoned me and then some assholes fucking tried to skewer me and it's all your fucking fault-"

"O-oi, put the teeth away, holy shit," Gilbert panted. He withdrew his limbs. "I was—the city was a bit of a walk and I collapsed. This is the first I've been able to walk any distance—"

"Oh…" Lovino found himself absently latching his fingers onto Gil's toes, like a child preoccupied with a new toy. "Well, I'm still angry and you're still a bastard."

Gilbert pressed his lips into a thin line. "Your fascination with my feet is a little unsettling and very weird. Just so you know."

Lovino huffed but released his toes. "Whatever. You have to get me out of here. You promised. Those men—there were guys here and they're pissed off at me. I don't want to become fishbait."

Gilbert hesitated. Something caught the corner of his eye—a face—but it dunked beneath the water before he could examine it closely. "I have an idea," he said. "But you're going to have to put those spines away or something." He gestured to the scabs down his legs with a little grimace. "Because I'm not really into the whole bleeding thing unless I can help it."

"I can do that," Lovino said. He retracted his spines and smoothed his scales until they were smooth to the touch. "Just don't freak me out and we won't have a problem—it's kind of an involuntary reaction."

"…Right."

"You going to pick me up or what?" He anchored himself against Gil's foot again and squirmed closer.

Gil kicked at his shoulder with a brow raised but nodded. He lifted Lovino up by squatting down, gathering him into his arms, and standing. He wavered under the uneven weight, grimacing at the slimy coldness of the tail draping over his arm and down one of his legs. "You are _really_ heavy," he grunted.

"Don't be a fucking wimp," Lovino muttered. He glanced wildly around, taking in the view of the ocean opening up from this island, then up the cliff faces, then at Gil's jaw. As the other began walking, he clung around his neck, tense. "Your kind are gonna notice my tail," he said.

"I'm avoiding the road," Gilbert said. "And if they do, I'll just tell them to fuck off. You're going to have to trust me."

Lovino allowed himself to relax slightly. He rested his head against his shoulder. "S'not like I have much of a choice."

Ludwig sank back into the ocean. The sigh that escaped his lips was not a sigh at all, but a ragged, startled thing. "Gilbert…?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Another 5 pages for your reading pleasure. I'm hoping that the chapter after this squeezes in some quality Prumano bonding before the major shit goes down. Anyhow, enjoy?**

* * *

After some walking, the pair circumvented the village to come along a small cottage lost in the thicket. It was small, run-down—made from interlaced sticks and logs and sealed with dried mud while the thatched roof, patchy in areas, littered clumps of hay into the grass. Nearby, trees clustered around a riverbed, but the water was only a trickle in the intense summer heat.

"It isn't much," Gilbert grunted as he lowered Lovino out onto a patch of ground near the door.

Immediately Lovino sprawled out over the grass, stretching his fingertips to dig into the dirt, tail swishing back and forth, eyes brightening at the strange textures and the coolness of the shade. He buried his nose deep into a patch of clovers with a long exhale; a little laugh escaped him as pollen tickled his nose. Then, satisfied, he rested his chin on his hands and closed his eyes.

When he did speak, his voice grated, long separated from water. "S'grass."

In the meantime, Gilbert worked to jimmy the door open and stepped inside to sit on the little rug just in the entry way. He used an old rag to wipe at his feet—bloodied and dirtied from the long trek—then stood, offering a hand to Lovino. "You want to come inside, or would you rather roll in the dirt like some kind of muddy pig?"

"…Pig?"

Gilbert shook his head. "S'nothing. A land animal." He hoisted Lovino up.

Gilbert had to rotate mid-step to fit Lovino's tail through the door, but he managed to haul and deposit the mermaid onto a pile of blankets near the back. Lovino sat, blinking, fingers curling into the unfamiliar texture of wool as he looked around.

The cottage was just as small inside as it appeared out, the one room furnished only with blankets, one rickety table mismatched by an old crate for a chair, and a little firepit made from an iron tub. Sunlight poured in through the gaps in the wall that Gilbert had failed to stuff with rags. The floor was packed dirt.

"This is where humans live?" Lovino asked. He'd finagled the one blanket to cover his tail. He sat picking at the fluff escaping a hole in the other.

"Um, sorta," Gilbert muttered. "It was the cheapest shit I could find, had to trade promised labor because my money is kind of on a ship in the middle of the ocean." He pinched his nose with a long sigh, "But s'life, I guess. I don't really need all that much anyway, and this is better than _nothing. _Damn lucky find, if you ask me. But no, it's not exactly typical. Most people can afford tables and chairs and wooden floors and stovetops and cupboards and all that shit." He glanced over at Lovino, realizing that he was not following. He waved his hands, at a loss for words, then clasped them together and shook his head again with a breathless little laugh. "You don't know what any of that is, do you?"

Lovino shook his head. "…No?"

"Well…uh, human stuff. Okay, fine, then where do Mermaids and their girly little tails live, then?"

"How bout I slash you with my spines, gonna call it girly then? Also you'd be surprised, the women are scarier anyway. More spines. Claws. Sometimes pointed teeth." Lovino scoffed but leaned back against the wall, drawing his tail closer. He picked absently at his scales as he spoke. "But, um, I haven't had a home in a long time. Usually we just live in caves anyway. Ice caves, normal caves, rivers, I don't know. Just any place kinda sheltered like that so we can hide. We sleep on shit we make from seaweed, but sand can be comfortable too. We don't…build shit. S'not like we have trees."

"True," Gil mused.

Lovino winced, irritated by the sting of dryness slowly seeping across his tail.

Gilbert blinked. "Oi. You okay?"

"Get me water," Lovino said. "Tail's drying out. That shit ain't good. S'not supposed to do that."

"Yeah, one second." Gilbert raced toward a jug of water he'd been keeping in the corner. Half he dumped over a wadded old blanket, which he wrapped slowly around Lovino's tail, taking care to be gentle when the other winced and hissed. The tail, once slimy, had taken on the texture of a scaled reptile—and an angry red rash splayed irritation out over where the scales slowly bled into the skin of his midriff.

Lovino closed his eyes. "Better." He cursed quietly to himself. "S'why I have to stay near the fucking ocean. I hate it."

Gilbert shrugged. "I think…when there isn't a drought that river should be filled with water again…" He took a second rag, dipping it into the water, and started to dab at the dried skin on his chest and up to his forehead, where beads of sweat plastered his hair to his forehead.

"Can't wait that long," Lovino groaned. "Fuck this. Fuck this fucking sun and this fucking tail, I just want to—" He scowled, biting his tongue.

"…Want to what?" Gilbert asked, lowering the rag.

With a long sigh, Lovino rolled over so that he faced the wall. He cut off Gilbert's exclamation with a whine. "Get my back too, asshole." Only when Gilbert started dabbing between his shoulder blades, did he continue. "I haven't seen another one of me in a long time—at least not people from my pack, just some random stick-up-his-cloaca shark-bastard who needed to mind his own business—"

"A _what-?_"

Lovino waved him off. "Look. S'not fair. I can breathe the same air as you. Why can't I survive on land? How can you possibly be fucking lonely with so many people colonizing this area, all crammed together, building shit out of trees and running around on their walking-leg-sticks."

"You'd be surprised," Gilbert said.

"I'm just fucking tired of empty darkness and silence and wandering aimlessly around. You have sun and the sound of birds and more of your kind than you can count. And places you can return to and call home and people to talk to. I don't have that. I don't even know if my family is _alive_, okay. They left me and _vanished._" His shoulders quivered, hunching as he hung his head and swallowed, teeth gritting audibly.

Gilbert hesitated; the cloth went slack in his grip, still pressed against Lovino's back. "Hey now. Don't fucking _cry_." He resumed rubbing at his back, more out of comfort than rehydration. "I get it, okay. I know what you mean. Maybe not literally, but I do. So you want to live on land? We're going to make it happen, one way or another. I'm a pretty clever guy, despite what people might think. We can improvise." He stood, dropping the rag on Lovino's head. "In fact, hang tight. We're going to make this easier on you right away. I'll talk to the landowner. He's a pretty eccentric guy, so I think he might have some supplies that I can make use of to make sure you're comfortable."

Lovino turned his head. A confused array of emotion twisted his face into something vulnerable—something he couldn't reign in as hard as he tried to scowl. Instead he frowned. "O-Oi, why _are_ you helping me, Gil-less-bert?"

Gilbert winked. "I kinda owe you my life."

"That's a shit reason." The rag slipped down over his forehead, hanging down over his eyes.

Gilbert shrugged, "Plus I think you're funny as hell in your own irascible way." He plucked the rag from Lovino's face with a cheeky smile, which fell into a more serious expression. "I've kind of been…in a rough place. I would have been okay with drowning, to be honest. I don't want to get into too many details while you're sitting here drying out…but somehow I'm glad it was someone like you who pulled me out of the ocean." He dropped the rag onto Lovino's head again. The door creaked open and shut again.

Lovino flopped over onto his back with a long sigh, lifting and dropping the rag onto his face. The soggy blankets were soothing to the irritation on his tail, but he felt his motion restricted by their strangling hold. "To gain one thing, you have to give up another," he muttered to himself.

In the muggy heat of the afternoon, he was able to doze off, dreaming up scenarios where he lived in a massive river which fed into a cottage where he could crawl up onto the floor and lounge, tail dipped into the water alongside Gilbert's feet.

He barely woke to a second creak of the door and a loud scraping and sloshing—until water splashed onto his face and he thrashed into an upright position, wiping at his eyes, disoriented and confused. "The hell-?!"

"So, you weren't lying…"

-An unfamiliar voice, a peculiar lilted accented, unlike the guttural harshness of Gilbert—

"What's going on?!" He blinked up at Gilbert, then his head whirled around to the second stranger, who kept his distance, watching him from the other side of an unfamiliar large, tin container that now dominated one wall. Gilbert leaned panting against it.

"I got you a bed," Gilbert managed. "Um, sorta."

Lovino continued to stare at the stranger, who took a few tentative steps toward him and knelt down to stare into his face, overgrown eyebrows scrunching together, vivid green eyes fascinated. "So you are Lovino?" He was smaller than Gilbert, petite with a disarray of blonde hair. He wore a green sweatervest completely unsuited to the heat.

"Y-yeah, and you are-?"

"The name is Arthur Kirkland. I'm the owner of this cottage. I apologize for intruding. I was intrigued about the reason why my tenant wished to make use of my laundry tub, you see. I have a certain interest in the mythological-"

"Do I fucking look like a myth to you?" Lovino frowned.

Arthur blinked. "Touché." But he smiled, bemused.

Gilbert, finally regaining his breath, lifted Lovino up and slowly lowered him into the tub. Water lapped up around his sides. The human spent the next few minutes carrying buckets from a cart just outside and dumping the contents around Lovino, until it lapped up to about midchest.

Lovino sighed, irritation vanishing. "Thank fucking god."

Arthur looked to Gilbert. "What is it exactly that you are planning to do, then?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Right now? Earn enough money to survive for a bit, then buy some kind of carriage so that Lovino and I can move further inland. Talked to some villagers—there are mountains a few days travel away. Mountains mean cold streams, fresh water. Maybe even caves. Places that my angry little friend here can't complain too much about." He spoke with strange fervor, eyes shining with pride, excitement. He kept glancing over at Lovino to gauge his reaction, but found that the other was too absorbed in soaking up the coolness of the water.

"Are you sure that taking him away from his natural habitat is wise?" Arthur asked.

"It was his decision."

"Very well," Arthur said. "I may be able to help. I know a little bit of magic. I can…make the illusion of legs so that the two of you can venture to the marketplace without raising alarm—and that you do not have to leave him alone all day long. If he is determined to get a feel for this place, then so be it. Let him experience what the human world has to offer." He gestured to a wheeled chair padded with an old straw cushion, then dropped a little necklace into the palm of Gilbert's hand. "Put this around his neck to draw the illusion. It is visual only. Anyone who tries to touch him will know the truth. You may borrow the chair to transport him."

"I—okay…?" Gilbert stood, watching as he slipped from the house. "I mean I guess—"

The carriage groaned as Arthur climbed up onto the slat that served as the driver seat. His friend, long-limbed and broad shouldered, cocked his head, an easy smile fading at the apprehension on Arthur's face. "Art? Was what he said true?" He scratched behind his head then adjusted his glasses, biting his lip.

Arthur nodded once. "Impossibly so. Alfred, please, let's just go home."

"Yeah, of course—" A snap of the reigns urged the lone grey pony to amble off toward the path cut into the foliage. The carriage rocked and swayed. "Um, so you think that this could be a problem?"

Arthur sighed. "Unfortunately so. I only hope that I can dissuade them from this foolish venture before anything happens. I cannot bear the thought of a repeat of last time. This is too heavy a burden for one man to carry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Princess Sweater thing included b/c my friend Muff drew me a pic of MerLovi in a Princess Sweater...then it became a plotpoint. YAY! Um, sorry for lack of fluff in this chapter. But yeah. Here's the next little bit.**

**I'm sorry about short segments. It's easier for me to do it this way. Steamtalia with its full-length chaps is already a bit more than I'm used to. Don't want to bite off more than I can chew.**

* * *

Gilbert's mouth fell open. "Goddamn, you'd think the illusion would include fucking clothes or something—"

Lovino, still half submerged in his tub, glanced down to where he saw legs-tanned and lean, graceful with muscles as if painted in sweeping strokes, hair curling along the shin and calves, and feet with toes that he could wriggle if he concentrated hard enough. But, when he reached to touch, he felt scales, an invisible border that betrayed his tail. "Holy fuck, this is weird." Finally he glanced down to the space between his legs and blinked. "The everliving fuck is _this _thing—"

"You know what, this is not a question-answer session about human anatomy," Gilbert said, already half out the door. He raised a hand and called back, "I'm going to find you _clothes_."

Lovino shrugged, lips pursed, then reached to trace the glimmer of the chain that fell over his collarbones. When he unclasped the delicate chain, the illusion vanished, and his tail snaked out over the edge of the tub. He smirked to himself and spent the time putting the necklace on and off again to watch his appearance change.

"Ugh but why does it float," Lovino muttered, finally bored and resigned to leaning back with his human legs.

Gilbert returned some time after with a wad of clothes. "C'mere," he muttered, dropping them so he could lift Lovino out of the tub, dripping, and settle him into the chair. He shivered at the disconnect between vision and touch. "Ah fuck."

Lovino allowed him to wrestle an oversized periwinkle sweater over his head with minimal complaints, though he tugged at the sleeves with a little frown. "This is really constricting…" He blinked. "but warm. And soft. Holy shit." He nestled into it with a satisfied little sigh.

"Yeah, yeah," Gilbert muttered. "I didn't bother with pants, because how the hell is a tail going to fit in pants. So I got you a blanket for your lap. Just don't—don't drop it in public, or anything, okay?"

"You guys that sensitive about your own damn anatomy?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Public decency or some shit. I don't know." He helped wrap it around Lovino so that he looked mostly presentable.

Only then did Lovino crane his neck forward to inspect the front of his shirt. "What does that say?" He jabbed at the chest logo. "I can't read your lameass language."

"Princess," Gilbert said. "The Princess of this country is being officially recognized as the leader of the land now that she's hit 18. Some stupid law says she can't be queen until she's married, but we all know that's a load of bullshit." He sighed. "Look, it was the cheapest shirt I could find—they were selling them by the dozen."

Lovino shook his head, "I like it." He snuggled further into it, nearly disappearing down the neckhole.

Gilbert pulled it back down over his head again. "O-Oi. First of all, stop being so damn _cute_ or I'll punch you in the face. And second of all, don't fucking do that in public, people will _stare_ and we're trying _not_ to attract attention." He grabbed the handles and wheeled the chair around so fast that Lovino gripped the sides with a little yelp.

"The fuck did you just call me cute—"

Gilbert only moved faster.

Maneuvering the chair through the tangle of underbrush was a challenge, so much that Gilbert had to rest near the road-half slouched against the chair-until he regained his breath. He wiped sweat from his forehead with one arm.

"Why is water leaking from your head?" Lovino asked, tugging at his sweat-soaked bangs.

Gilbert only grunted in response and continued moving.

The village itself was comprised of an odd mixture of large stucco homes with quirky rounded windows and white painted accents, and log homes jigsawed together beneath thatched roofs. The roads were mostly packed dirt littered with sand carried up the island by the occasional wind. Horses grazed on bales of hay, some enclosed in fences, others roaming freely. On porches, men repaired their nets while children played out in the streets.

Lovino twisted around in his chair, gripping each armrest for leverage and support, as wide eyes drank in everything. "This is a human settlement?"

"Not so loud," Gilbert said. "But yeah. Sure. One of them. Where I came from…it was a huge city, not a village. There were apartment buildings crammed together in tiny rows and bricks for streets and docks where _massive_ ships anchored." He grinned, much enjoying Lovino's excitement. "Though, my brother once told me he'd been to a city where they had canals for streets."

"Canals? Like water?"

"Yeah. And they used these odd little long boats to travel."

"That sounds…perfect," Lovino managed.

"Yeah, but apparently the water was disgusting as _fuck_—"

Lovino frowned. "Oh."

The marketplace was just down the road from the village, where fisherman hauled their catch and displayed them on wooden carts. Flies swarmed despite constant fanning, and a pungent odor slunk about. Other stalls, sheltered by striped awnings, displayed goods made from bits of coral or shells, necklaces of sharks' teeth, trinkets carved from hardened cherrywood, and blankets woven from thick, soft wool. Apparently, as Gilbert found out, this island was visited often by traders as well as tourists from other islands just a day's boat journey away.

Lovino tapped at the armrest and pointed, eager to join the throng but frustrated at the pace at which Gilbert moved, as the wheels of the chair kept sinking into the sand. Once they reached the stalls, Lovino was happy to run his fingers along clay pots and polished rocks, grinning when he saw a little jewelry box carved with the likeness of a mermaid. "You guys have seen my kind before," he said to Gilbert.

"It's like a legend," Gilbert said. "But I guess it had a root in fact. I mean, obviously. Here you are." He paused then released the chair. "Hey. Wait there a minute, but don't talk to anyone." He scurried off to a vender across the way.

Lovino scowled after him but hoisted himself up to grip the box and trace his fingers along each delicately carved detail in the gleaming wood.

"You like that?" The vendor leaned on one elbow from the other side.

"Y-yeah," Lovino answered. He glanced around for Gilbert then back to the seller. "It's, uh, nice." He carefully set it back on the table, wondering if it was okay that he picked it up in the first place.

"I have a lot of interesting wares that you might be interested in if you like that." The vender was all too eager to pull out several more boxes carved with similar figures then canvases painted with mermaids with scales glittering rainbow colours and others of mermaids drowning young men.

Lovino frowned. "Oi. Since when do mermaids drown people? What the hell?"

The vendor blinked. "There have been incidents."

"Incidents? You…you don't—" Lovino bit his lip. "I thought merfolk was all just lore and myth."

"Clearly you have not been on the Western Isles very long, kid," The merchant said. But, with a spark in his eye, he saw his chance. He pulled out a basket and set it down on Lovino's lap. The contents sparkled and chimed as they shifted—hundreds of iridescent, transparent scales.

With trembling fingers, Lovino dipped his hand into the contents with a small shudder. He felt the screams of his brethren as if in his ears then yanked his hand away, dizziness coursing through a sudden stabbing pain in his head. His breath came in shaky gasps, which he tried to contain, fists clenched in his lap.

Unaware, the merchant continued, "See. Merfolk scales. Scraped from three different beasts. They're said to contain healing properties, but I think people prefer them for jewelry or even windchimes—the sound they make is just heavenly, don't you think? Makes them seem much heavier and denser than they really are."

A single hot tear sizzled into the cloth on his lap. He'd gnawed his lip until it bled. "You…killed them?"

"They're overgrown fish. And pests. Untying fishing nets, drowning children, eating all the crab and fish in the area. This island would have starved."

"F-_fuck you_." Lovino spat. "That is—that's _bullshit_. We've never harmed _anything_. You just—you just wanted us for our damn scales, that's what it is. You would _kill_ someone because you could fucking profit-?!"

What if that had been his brother? His mother? His father? His hand clenched around the scales as panic and rage twisted and boiled into something dark inside him. Without thinking, he lunged forward, tipping the table and all of its contents over onto the merchant. Somewhere in the confusion he found himself floundering on splintered wood, his own blood seeping amidst scattered scales—some his own, but most from the basket—the heart necklace lost in the chaos and his tail whipping back and forth to destroy as much as he could.

People screamed, but Lovino heard and saw as if trapped in a tunnel. He barely felt a spear slash through his skin, or the wet dampness that seared ahead of pain. He could barely hear the hoarse shouting of his friend as he fought his way toward him, or strong hands pinning his tail down long enough for Gilbert to get his arms around him to hoist him over his shoulder.

"D-dammit—Lovino—" Gilbert's gasps grew ragged. His hands stung as scales bit into the flesh. His legs burned with the effort.

He kept running, even as he felt Lovino struggle and scream and sob and pound his fists against him. Several of the fisherman gave chase, but Gilbert was able to lose them somewhere in the thick of the forest, ducking into a small cave as they rushed past.

He lay Lovino down, one hand over his mouth, until he calmed, then sat with him, sheltering his head on his lap, just stroking his face, hair, shoulders and whispering soothing words. "H-hey. It's okay."

"Gilbert they know about merfolk, they _kill_ merfolk and harvest their fucking _scales._" He felt the contents of his stomach heave and he wretched onto the ground beside him.

Gilbert only held him tighter, his own breathing quickening with horror. "Fucking _shit—_Lovino—I didn't know—" He swallowed. "We have to get you back to the ocean. You need to swim as fucking fast as you can—you need to get _out_ of here, back into the deep sea before someone harms you."

"No," Lovino whined. He curled in on himself at a fresh stab of pain. His hand came away from his side sticky and red.

"Goddammit," Gilbert hissed. He yanked the sweater up over Lovino's head to get a better look at the wound, then started ripping up his own shirt to try and bind it. "It's okay. It's not deep—you're okay."

"_Hurts_," Lovino said. His fist curled tight into Gilbert's pants. "S'okay. I heal fast—but shit—stabbing me with their damn stabby things." He closed his eyes, but his breathing leveled. "Just…just promise me that you won't throw me back in the damn ocean. Okay?"

"Fine," Gilbert said. He helped Lovino back into his sweater, frowning at the rip in the side and the red blotch seeped into the fabric. It would have to do for now. After some silence, he pulled a small bit of cloth from his bag, which he unwrapped to reveal partially mangled strawberries. "I bought these for you, so eat them," he managed.

"Fruit?" He shifted so that he could cram one into his mouth. He smiled weakly and ate another, then curled up again, grimacing past a fresh wave of pain.

Gilbert continued to stroke his forehead. Lovino still trembled, despite everything, but the sugar in the strawberries helped ground him. The albino's own mind raced as to the best course of action. If Lovino was still determined to live on land, _was_ there a safe place they could settle? And how would they get there with only one good pair of legs between the two of them? He sighed long and hard and decided that he would worry about that just as soon as he and Lovino could move. The fisherman wouldn't be able to search long; they had livelihoods to attend to.

"I really am sorry…" Gilbert whispered to the other.

He let Lovino cry himself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**now with 20% more awkward merman flirting and 30% more heartwrenching fluff.**

**and 15% writers block and 42% awkwardness**

**and 85% do not follow that dog, Gilbert**

* * *

Gilbert must have fallen asleep as well, because he woke to numbness crackling through both his legs where Lovino was draped over his lap. Painfully, he shifted from under him and climbed to his feet, wavering, then staggered to the mouth of the cave. The sun had slunk behind the line of trees. A restless breeze hinted an oncoming storm. Regardless, Gilbert knew he had to find a safer place for them to hide. It was only a matter of time before their assailants stumbled upon this little cave. He winced, tasting bile, then knelt beside Lovino with a grimace. The thought of anyone treating him like wild game made him see red.

Fingers trembling, he brushed Lovino's bangs from his eyes. He wasn't human, no, but he was a _person_. An intelligent person with fears and hopes and dreams and a sort of earnestness that thrived despite the weight of the world and loneliness that would have crushed anyone else's spirit. "I'm sorry…" Gilbert murmured, leaning forward, lips grazing his ear. "I'm sorry that we're like that. That humans are damn idiots…and can't hold anything sacred."

Lovino's eyes fluttered open. His head turned slowly. His breath hitched at the pain at his side, fingers curling into the sand. "S'not your fault." Still, there was a deep sadness seeped into glossy eyes and tears left unshed as Lovino tried to ignore the grief tightening its grip around his lungs and heart. "I just—" He screwed his eyes shut; he refused to cry. "Fuck it. I just—I would rather they had abandoned me t-than _that_ happening." He curled in on himself, muscles tense, and shook.

Gilbert rubbed at his shoulder. "It—it's okay to cry…"

"I don't want to cry—" Lovino snapped. His voice broke. His breath came in ragged gasps. "I want—I want…" his voice dipped to a low whisper, like that was all he had the strength for. "I want to pretend they're still out there. Swimming. Racing dolphins. Leaping and flipping through the waves."

Swallowing, Gilbert continued massaging his back, allowing him to roll back onto his lap. He nudged the strawberries toward him. "Okay. Please…just eat, okay? You need your strength. We need to figure out how to get to the mountains, remember?" He watched as Lovino tried to eat. "I mean—I can't—I don't know what kind of pain you must be feeling—but if—if you want to keep going…then…just do what I have always done. One foot in front of the other—or uh, keep swimming—move forward. And don't look back. Because looking back means pain and what-ifs and regrets, and all that's in the past. Mourn your loved ones, but…don't let it slow you down. I'm not even asking you to forgive…I just—I don't know what I'm saying anymore—" He groaned and looked away.

Lovino was silent.

"Anyway—" Gilbert mumbled, "I-I'm sorry. We'll achieve your goal—that's all I can offer you…"

"Gilbert?" Lovino said. He wiped a fist across his own eyes to stop the tears and swallowed. Hard. "How do…how do humans say thank you?"

Gil's eyes snapped back to Lovino's face. "What-?"

Lovino smeared even more tears in his efforts to hide them. "You're—you're the closest thing I've ever had to a friend."

"I—uh—" Gilbert felt a knot grow in his own throat. "You just…you just _did_. Say thank you, I mean—"

The wind picked up and rattled through the leaves outside. Trees groaned as they swayed. Heavy rain dumped in thick sheets. Gilbert shivered.

"That river should fill up—" Lovino said, head jerking toward the mouth of the cave.

"If it rains long enough, maybe!" Gilbert felt an odd laugh tug free from his lips. "It's…it's like some kind of fortune is smiling down on us, maybe. That riverbed probably leads up to the mountains. We can make our escape."

"Good," Lovino breathed. He reached upwards, placing his hands on either of Gilbert's cheeks. The scruff tickled his fingers. "I think…it's…kind of a weird belief that I have. But, when a loved one dies…they're there with you in spirit. I haven't been abandoned. They're looking after me after all…"

Gilbert hesitated, brows furrowing. He barely dared breathe as Lovino explored his face. "I—I like that thought. Means that maybe my family is somewhere looking after me as well. God knows they have a weird sense of humor." He felt himself laugh again, heart heavy. "It all…kind of works out in the end, I think. Even if it's not the way you wanted it to work out."

"Hm?"

"My parents died when I was pretty young. I raised my kid brother. It meant I had to stop fucking around and take responsibility…I was really bitter about it. But then my brother grew into a respectable young man…and…I was so damn fucking proud because I had done something worth something." He shook his head a little. "But even kids grow up and run off to do whatever the hell they want. Haven't seen him in a few years…so I ended up joining the crew on a ship just to keep my mind off of things. Then I kind of met you. Weirdest fucking twist of my life."

"Met me? I fucking saved your dumbass life," Lovino said. His fingers curled behind the lobes of his ears and he yanked him downwards. Before Gilbert could protest, he eased his nails through Gilbert's hair and slowly kissed his lips like a lingering, mournful song.

Gilbert pulled up a fraction of an inch-face still alarmingly close to the other's-then dared not move farther. He could only blink, dumbfounded, face flushed. "O-oi—"

"S'how we say thank you," Lovino said.

Gilbert sputtered through incoherencies until Lovino kissed him again.

"And how we make people shut up," Lovino added.

"You do realize that that's how humans—"

"You dumbass, you think I don't know that shit? My brother was fucking obsessed with your culture out of nowhere. S'same for us." He let his hands drop and turned away, his own face burning, then glowered into the rain pelting the ground.

Gilbert settled down beside him and put a cautious arm around Lovino's waist, drawing up into his back and burying his nose into the crook of his neck. "You had a brother too?" He waited for Lovino to thrash or swat him away. The merman only let his tail drape over Gil's feet.

"Yeah," Lovino said. "He would go explore abandoned ships. Found lots of paintings, objects, jewelry even. He would be jealous…if…" Lovino swallowed and was quiet. The rain thickened.

Gilbert hummed something and held him quietly through the night. By the morning, the rain was coming down in torrents and the wind howled. Trees cracked from its insane force. Lightning licked the sky. Thunder muttered dark threats.

"Holy shit—" Lovino yelped. An especially loud crash of thunder jolted him awake.

"Holy shit is _right_," Gilbert answered. He'd been awake a little while, watching the storm and keeping an eye out for intruders. It wasn't likely that anyone would be out during this. He wondered what the people in the thatched roof houses did in storms like this—if they suffered much damage from severe winds. He pulled closer, wrapping his legs around Lovino's tail and arms around his chest, desperate for warmth.

"Scared or some shit?" Lovino asked.

"No. I'm cold. There _is_ a difference," Gilbert said. He hissed as scales dragged over his legs.

Lovino had twisted around to face him. "I'm hungry," he said.

"Eat strawberries," Gilbert said. His own stomach churned.

"I, uh, ate them all already." He'd been awake at some point earlier that morning.

"Fuck you," Gilbert groaned.

"Fuck you more," Lovino said.

"Well we can't very well leave in this kind of shit weather. I don't have a death wish," Gilbert said.

Lovino groaned. His eyes were puffy and tinged red. He'd been crying.

So Gilbert kissed him, long and slow, his hands warm and steady at his back, their breaths little shared whispers in close space. He felt the other draw closer, fingertips trailing down his cheeks to his chest. They swept over hip bones and gripped his ass.

Gilbert yelped. "O-_Oi—_don't go shoving your fingers in random crevices—"

Lovino snorted. "I was curious."

"W-well—that's enough curiosity for one day—" He reached his hands behind him to remove Lovino's fingers from his asscrack. "Inappropriate, perverted bastard."

"You kissed me first," Lovino said.

"I believe you issued the first kiss. Last night."

Something outside whined. Both bolted upright, Gil to his feet and Lovino onto a large rock, tail acting like a spring.

A little dog, completely drenched, wandered in and whimpered.

"The hell is that thing—" Lovino scrabbled higher onto his perch.

Gilbert knelt and held out a hand to it. "It's a dog…" It wandered toward him and sniffed him, then sat, head tilted. "Though what the hell it's doing wandering around in this…I don't know." He inched closer til he could scratch behind its ear. "Seems harmless though…"

It was a small dog—coloured black and brown, its body too long for its height, and a butt that wiggled when it tried to wag a long tail. It rubbed its head against Gilbert's hand and licked his hand, but whined more.

"God, he looks a lot like a dog tha—" Gilbert wrapped his fingers around the collar on its neck and drew closer, squinting down at some tags fashioned from old bits of metal. "Oh my fucking god. This is my brother's dog. Of all of the fucking coincidences-?"

"Your brother is on this island?" Lovino asked.

"I-I _guess_ so. Ludwig doesn't go anywhere without his godforsaken dogs—" He swallowed. "This one can lead us to my brother!"


End file.
